Just Who Are You, Schrodinger?
by Jlpred
Summary: Schrodinger finds herself in the middle of a desert after fighting a rival gang, her portal system refusing to work. With her strength diminishing, she chances to look down from the night sky to find a solitary building off in the distance. Her curiosity goes into overdrive, but her hunger pains are what truly motivate her to visit the lonely fortress.
1. Foxface the Schrodinger

My exposed skin tingled as the wind whipped through the streets of Baltimore. I took up the binoculars in my hands, scoping out my target.

"Foxface! We have a problem. Your target hired professionals to guard him, I'd be careful if I were you. If you find yourself overwhelmed, abort the mission immediately."

"Understood. I'll call you when the job's finished, if I remember." I dropped the walkie talkie off the edge of the building, allowing it to shatter onto the cobblestone below.

I opened a portal that lead to the roof of my target's house, nearly slipping on the icy shingling. Arguing echoed from the interior of the suburban home. I swung from a dirty gutter, shattering the glass before tucking and rolling.

"Who the hell are you?!" My target was reaching for his gun when I punctured his carotid artery with my nails. He dropped his cell phone, the person on the other end yelling violently. His expression was that of a small child in denial that he had done anything wrong. His eyes were pleading for me not to let him die there in a pool of his own blood.

Outwardly, I had a pokerface save for a slight hint of a smirk. Inwardly, though… That's a whole 'nother story.

"Look at you… Such a pitiful wretch. How many innocent people did you send to jail just to boost your reputation? How many families did you leave crushed in your wake? The fact that you were still alive surprises me. How many enemies do you have, anyway? How many people will dance on your grave, aren't you the least bit curious?" His hands were covered in blood as he tried desperately to stop the bleeding. _He probably hadn't even heard what I'd said, his heart is pounding too loudly in his ears._

I opened a portal and grabbed out a bottle of saltwater. _A nice alternative to ammonia or those other chemicals._ I kneeled down to the man, who was now going into shock, and dumped a healthy amount into his wound. His screams made my grin grow even wider.

Pounding on the door made it obvious that I had little time to finish up, so I sloppily painted my signature onto the wall and jumped out of the window. The portal below me led to The Infinite Spaces, a realm where time doesn't pass. Also, it goes on forever. _I don't think it'd be possible to explore the whole place; it's like another dimension, it just expands the more I walk._

I poured some of the saltwater onto my hands, scrubbing them to get all the blood off. Then, I took the liberty of putting the bottle into a tub of more saltwater. Can't be too careful when handling evidence for an ongoing murder investigation.

::  
>"Who's the vic?" Police had closed off the area in front of the home so that they could investigate.<p>

"Gerald Kladivo, he was a prosecutor."

"Means he had tons of enemies… What's this?" My partner's face went pale as he dialed the number for our chief.

"That, is the Faulkner Gang's insignia."

I leaned back in my chair listening to my MP3. Such soft tones classical music provides. Perfect music for an after-kill relaxation.

"Foxface, I assume the job's done?" I took out my earbuds and grinned. He nodded and walked over to the table.

"You want details, Barry?" _He's Barry to me, but everyone else calls him Barracuda. Not sure why… Maybe it's an inside joke?_

"No, thank you. Listen, there's a local gang that's been harassing the patrons of Frazier's Bar and Grill. Now, I know you like to go there in your spare time, but if we're going to get these guys, you'll need more than fists to finish the job." That was all I heard before putting my earbuds back in. And, although I can lipread, I can guess what he was saying: "It's too dangerous to go alone… Here, maybe Kat can go with you? Or maybe Teach? Foxface, I strongly recommend staying away from there at all costs. That's an order." _He worries too much. _

I smiled as I swung my feet off of the table and strolled out into the night. There's work to be done, after all.

"Do we have any witnesses, any leads as to who did this?" The chief sipped his coffee as he waited for the answer he knew he'd get.

"No sir, no witnesses, no evidence; it's like the vic just up and died. We can't even ID the weapon used." I stared at the ground, disappointed that I couldn't find one thing to help move this case along. Of all the gangs here in Baltimore… The Faulkner Gang is the one that's been able to elude the police for the longest time. They have two different variations to their signature: one painted in blood and the other marked with black spray paint. We have yet to figure out if there's a copycat or if the members just haven't agreed on what the signature should consist of. That would be some good news, the thought that they can't agree. We should hope that they'll have a falling out and kill each other. Although, how many members are in The Faulkner Gang has yet to be known.

One of the patterns we've noticed is that they target criminals and corrupt politicians, probably to justify their actions. _Killing a prosecutor seems a bit, out of character for them. Perhaps by getting to know the victim, I can identify the reason he was targeted._ With purpose, I rushed to my desk. _If I can find even one of the members of The Faulkner Gang… I'd be famous throughout the bureau!_

::  
>The bar fell into silence as I walked in, my cheshire smirk illuminated their faces. I sat on one of the stools, everyone held their breath to see what I'd order. My sadistic grin changed to a genuinely sweet smile as I nodded to the bartender.<p>

"I'd like some milk, please." One snicker was all it took to end the silence as everyone but the bartender broke into a hysterical fit of jeers.

"She wants some milk? Who is this joker?"

"Go back home to your momma, sweetheart!"

"Why don't ya let me show you a real drink. Maybe afterwards, we could hang out at my place, see where that gets us." The entire bar roared with laughter as I sipped the cold beverage.

"You make the milk taste sour. Pity. I was hoping to relax before killing you." The bartender grabbed one of the glasses and began cleaning it. The bar was silent once more.

"I hope you'll stay to clean up this time. Maude was sore when she saw the mess you left us." I smiled at him, an old friend that I'd saved on one of my missions.

"Sorry, Lee. Thems the rules. The cops would love to have my head on a silver platter, and frankly, I don't intend to let that ruin such a wonderful day. Cheer up, though. I promise not to let their blood stain the wood. It's new, right?" One of the gangsters had got up from his chair and was stalking over to me, knife in hand. _How droll. It's like they're not even trying to be creative. They're just… disappointing. _

I set down my drink when he put his hand on my shoulder.

"What do ya mean, ya think you're gonna hurt all of us? That's cute, sugar. But I don't like being talked down to." He put the knife to my throat. "Any last words?"

"Yeah, you like snaps or crackles?" I took the opportunity to break his neck while he was confused. _Instant death, it's a shame I didn't get to hear the pig's screams._ I grabbed the knife and put it in my pocket. "Who's next?"

::  
>"How many people were in your bar when it happened?"<p>

"Fifteen, plus me… So sixteen."

"Did you get a good look at the assailants?"

"No, they were wearing masks."

"Could you describe the masks?"

"Well, they looked like those masks that bank robbers usually wear."

"Alright. Anything else you might have seen, maybe one of them had an accent, maybe they were wearing cologne…"

"No, it all happened so fast. I'm sorry, but when can you get these bodies outta here? It's bad for business, you see." I thanked him for his time and left. _Something doesn't feel right. Why would men wearing ski-masks come into a bar unarmed? All of the victims were killed the same way, a snapped neck, but how? They were all armed, didn't they fight back? The only clue I have to solving this case leads to an unsolved series of cases. The worst part? The blood's cells are all dead, which means I can't use them to ID the person the blood came from. What a headache. That damn insignia seems to get more creepy everytime it shows up._

"Detective! Might I have a word?" I stopped and stared at the young man. He was in his late 20's and for some reason, he looked familiar.

"What do you want to talk to me about?" The man surveyed the crime scene and glanced over his shoulder before leaning in.

"I saw who did it." He whispered. My eyes grew wide with interest. I took out a sketch pad and pen.

"Go on…"

::  
>I strolled through The Infinite Spaces, silently thanking Widner and puzzling over the simplicities that life can often bring. <em>Heh, I'm glad I can trust ol' Widner. He always gives the most accurate of descriptions to the police. Fortunately, it's of a patsy. He doesn't work directly with us, but he helps where he can. He insists that he owes me his life, but I have no idea why. Frankly, I think he might be a bit delusional. Works out well for me if he is. Even if the police take him into custody and he admits who I really am, the police won't believe that a child like me could commit such heinous crimes without getting caught.<em>

I stopped at the mountain of money piled up. _Life really has no purpose, I'm just glad I've learned to create my own. I wonder if Maverick has the same dream as I, or if he wants something else from life? For the reader, Maverick is Barry. Everyone here in Baltimore has two names, the one they were born with and the one they go by._

The row of cars glistened, not a scratch or smudge on one of them. _All the time in the world, and I'm spending it killing criminals. I'd say that's an honest dream. To rid Baltimore of all it's crime. And who knows? Maybe we'll expand past Baltimore someday. I've heard Chicago has it pretty rough. Maybe I'll travel there for a few weeks. Vacation is different for me than it is for most people. I work while on break._

The swimming pool's water was stagnant, yet it was crystal clear. I climbed up to the diving board and jumped in, it's waves came to life and sloshed around me. _How did I get a swimming pool into my Infinite Spaces, you ask? That's my little secret. I have many more little treats here in my world, but they only fill me with a temporary delight. I want something that lasts._

I opened a portal leading to my room in the abandoned hangar. _Such a simple room. Not much is needed when I find beauty in the few objects that I own: a white poker chip, a small chunk of milky quartz, and a necklace with a bearclaw as the main attraction. All of these objects mean something to me. Whether they were given to me by a friend or I just found them fascinating; they're all precious, regardless or their origins._

A loud banging echoed through the hangar. I froze and glanced over at Barry's door. He came out with his Desert Eagle in hand. Teddy joined us on the catwalk with his ax and shotgun. Kat stayed in the shadows, her bow pulled back and ready to fire.

"This everyone?"

"I do believe Range is up in the rafters. He says it gives him a good vantage point."

"His loss, close combat is way more invigorating than shooting fish in a barrel." I heard Teddy chuckling as I grabbed my machetes from my room. The rival gang burst through the side door with their guns blazing, not knowing the viper-pit they'd just stormed into. My lips stretched into a sickening grin. _It's been far too long since blood has been spilled inside this hangar._

::  
>Author's Note: Please do not be turned off by the fact that none of the TF2 characters showed up in this chapter. They are going to show up in next week's.<p>

By the way, a Schrodinger is a neutral entity with hardly an opinion. If they do have an opinion, it would be because it's forced into having one; forcing a neutral being to have an opinion causes it to develop a severe mental imbalance. This Schrodinger has already gone through the imbalance. You'll see next chapter. ^u^


	2. Raccoons and Seared Steak

Opaque clouds drifted lazily in front of the moon. Schrodinger daydreamed casually, her attention pointed at the majestic swirls in the darkened sky.

All she remembered was fighting the rival gang, then a portal opened, then… she was in the middle of this desert? She shook her head, trying to remember anything else, but her strength was ebbing due to dehydration and hunger; her portals decided not to work for her at the worst possible time.

Had she been hearing the voices in her head the past few minutes, or were there actual people nearby? In the distance, she swore she heard the murmuring of several men and music, but she dismissed it multiple times. Her stubborn will broke as she chanced to look down from the sky only once, but that's all she needed. Her eyes fixated upon a building; she pushed back all thoughts of thirst or hunger, only focused upon that lone structure in this vast desert.

She felt so stupid for not looking down sooner! All she experienced now was this growing need to know who was there, and why? Though her hunger and thirst reminded her that they were important, as well. Curious, she quickened her pace, if only a little. An excruciating pain shot through her gut as she experienced what she could only assume were from hunger, but she just cursed to herself and continued stumbling towards the howling laughter of men. Her green eyes determined that she wouldn't die in this desert as she clutched her stomach tightly.

"Heh, Maverick is probably going to nag me for disappearing during that fight. I suppose I could tell him it wasn't my fault, but when does he believe me, anyway? Dude needs to chill." She paused for a moment as she stood in awe of the moon's regal tones when the clouds parted. "I really do miss Baltimore…"

_Well, if you hadn't opened that portal back then, maybe we wouldn't be here now, would we?_

_What's your problem? It's just a lil sand. And honestly, I don't mind the cold._

_Would you two knock it off? The people in the building up ahead might give us a lift to a town nearby, if we ask._

_Maverick can handle things back in Balty, I wanna stay here._

_That's so irresponsible…_

_Fuck off! I want to go on a rampage! Whatever kind of operation that's going down next week, Maverick'd probably just have me execute one or two people anyways, a complete waste of my talent._

_Stupid psycho. I'm surprised Maverick even allowed us to stay when he found out about our little, heh, situation._

::

~At RED base, a week after returning from Coldfront~

"Listen up, Maggots! Tomorrow we take the BLU fort or die trying…!" Soldier drunkenly pepped the men around him as he trailed off to sleep. A few of the mercenaries chuckled as they returned to what they were doing.

"Vhat are ve to do vith these drunken fools?" Medic laughed to himself as he smacked Soldier and Demoman awake. He glanced around the room at all of the men, most were chatting quietly or watching the tele. Spy was in the corner reading one of his books. The only one Medic didn't see was Sniper. He shrugged and joined Heavy and Scout on the couch, watching reruns on the busted-up tele. Demoman got up and stretched, "Bloody Hell, Doc. Wot was that fer?"  
>::<p>

Spy found it intriguing that not one of the simpletons on his team knew that he was actually gathering a superfluous amount of information on them. He chuckled inwardly at the thought of telling them about each others' secrets, creating havoc and chaos. But he just sat there and read his book, The Great Gatsby. A fine book, it was. And a classic. He was born in France, but he enjoyed reading English literature. Especially the classics. He took a drag from his cigarette as his flipped the page, completely engrossed in the novel, but keeping half an ear on his team. Just in case some juicy gossip made it's way to his corner.  
>::<p>

Engineer winced as the Pyro chuckled at his last comment.

"It ain't funny, Mumbles!" Pyro peered up at him, then, unable to hold it back, continued on with his insane fit of laughter. A light hughe of red spread across Engie's face. "Keep it down, will ya?"

"Hey Chucklenuts, what's so funny?" Scout peered over at Pyro with a childish gleam in his eyes. Pyro immediately made the motion of 'zipped lips,' indicating it was a secret. Not that anyone could ever understand what he said.  
>::<p>

"Vell, I'm off to bed. Gute Nacht." Medic got up and left, but that lingering curiosity stopped him in the middle of the hallway. _Maybe Sniper is in his room already…_ It had been a rough day for both teams. The game ended in a stalemate, but the Administrator didn't let up, showing her full anger and disappointment to both teams. _Such a vicious woman_. He shook his head before slipping into his bed, cooing his good nights to Archimedes. He thought of the battle that would go down tomorrow, and how it would be the same as usual. Charge up Heavy, blow up the Scout, get shot by the Sniper or backstabbed by the Spy… Although he had tried kidnapping one of the BLU's once, the attempt had failed. He was planning on using the kidnapped for his experiments. A sinister smirk spread across his face as he buried his face deeper into the pillow, fantasizing about the terrified screams of the other teams' men as he ripped them open.

His smile relaxed as he felt anxiety tugging at the back of his mind to go make sure Sniper was fine, but he assured himself that he was not a child. Still, it was unlike the aussie to avoid his team mates after such a long day. Come to think of it, the german didn't even see him at dinner. Medic closed his eyes and drifted into a dreamless slumber, unsure if he was making the right decision.  
>::<p>

Sniper scanned the desert for enemy BLU's, making sure that he didn't give their base away. He heard the drunken fool of a Demoman laughing and bellowing that he was going to blow away all the BLU's the next day. Sniper cursed under his breath, wishing the man would just keep it down. He took one more sweep on the desert and decided the base was secure. _I gotta get some sleep…_ The Aussie slung the rifle over his shoulder and yawned. He felt a cold chill run up his arms, causing him to shiver.

"Bloody desert." Sniper huffed to himself as he rushed back to the fortress. Although he was born in Australia, he could never seem to get used to the cold nights that enveloped the desert landscape. He would always complain as a child that he needed more blankets, and was often teased for it. The teasing didn't bother him much. It was when no one acknowledged him that he began to feel lonely. Even these mates teased him a bit when he'd first arrived. But that all changed when they saw how important he was on the battlefield.

His train of thought was violently broken by the sound of a snapping twig; the RED Sniper swerved around, scanning for anything out of place. He listened. He sniffed a couple of times to see if it was the enemy Spy. No smoke entered his nostrils. He took one last look around before shrugging and walking off, mumbling something about raccoons always messin' with him.

::

Stupid portal system is way too unpredictable, but at least it saved me this time.

The room she had stumbled into was jam packed with baseball memorabilia.

"Oooh, what's this?" Her mouth curled up into a mischievous grin as she picked up a baseball with her slender hands. She opened a portal to the roof and found a comfortable spot to sit. She threw the ball up and down a few times, easily entertained by it. The moon's bright rays of light seemed to reflect off of the ball, new as it was. She found herself entranced in it's soft shimmer… _Growl…_ Her stomach protested to her blatant waste of time. She scoffed and put the ball in the gutter, making sure it wouldn't fall or roll away.

She opened another portal and entered a room that resembled a kitchen. The sink was piled high with dishes and the cupboards were rather messy. She bowed in thanks before opening the fridge, looking through all of the 'delicacies' before deciding on eating a seared steak. She grabbed the skillet off of the wall and some butter from the fridge and promptly began the process, while sipping on some milk she had acquired. She threw the steak into the skillet, smirking as the meat sizzled with juiciness. It popped every once in a while, browning rapidly from the heat of the stove. She was practically drooling over it, failing to notice that someone had joined her in the room.

* * *

><p>Author's Note: Ooooh, who walked in on our unsuspecting friend? More importantly, I'm kinda hungry, reading about that steak and all. Mm. I'll take Gluttony for 500, please. Anyways, the next upload will be on the 28th, hope you guys are enjoying this series so far!<p> 


	3. Schro and Snipes

Schrodinger used a serrated knife to get the browned steak out of the skillet, putting it on a clean plate. At least, she hoped it was clean. Dishes were stacked high in the sink. She shrugged as she sat down at the table and greedily ate the food, happy just to be alive. She heard the faint rustling of cloth against wood, yet she just reached for her glass of milk, undeterred by the fact that she wasn't alone.

"Uh, how long are you going to stand there and watch me? It's getting kinda creepy…" Schrodinger sipped some of her milk as the man entered the room rather sheepishly.

"Oi'm sorry, didn't mean ta- wait, just what are you doing in our base? How did you even find it?" _The last part of his sentence he purposefully enunciated every word, shows he's on guard. How cute._

"I just came in the front door." She smiled at him and laughed at the expression on his face. He was completely dumbfounded.

She perked up at the sound of more people approaching. "Hurry, follow me!" The Aussie whispered in a hushed tone. Schrodinger nodded and followed close behind him, making sure to look back occasionally. _That meal had turned out decent, too. Pity it had to be wasted._ She saw several men enter the room they had just left. They rummaged through the fridge, for a late night snack, no doubt. She glanced ahead of her at the Aussie. He was on his guard, he had his knife in hand- a kukri- yet he was helping her. _Would it be too much to ask to leave?_ She looked back once more and saw that the men closed the door. She could hear them chatting from nearly three rooms away! A part of her wished she could join them, if only to be rowdy and obnoxious. She bumped into the Aussie as he stopped abruptly. He grabbed her by the collar of her shirt and shoved her against the wall.

"Why are you here?" He had big hands, calloused and dirty… She studied his expression. It was calm and collected, yet ready to kill at any moment.

"I see, you took me away from there for an interrogation. Aight, I'll tell you: I got lost, then I found this place. I was hungry, so I went into the kitchen to eat. Any problems with my story so far?" She smiled slyly at him, and he returned with a look of discomfort. He glanced around and sighed.

::_  
>She sounds just like the bloody spook.<em> He rubbed the ridge of his nose and growled under his breath._ This is not what I need right now..._

::_  
>His aviators hide his eyes really well. What a cute shade of blue.<em> He let Schrodinger go, but began ruffling through his hair, hat in his left hand now. _I wonder if this is healthy, to stress someone else out this much. Is it because he wanted that steak? Shit… I'm always eating other peoples' food… Not on purpose! I just, get hungry._

"This place is a top secret facility… it's not like I can just let you leave, now. I'm not about to make you a prisoner of war, either." The Aussie glanced over his shoulder and then grabbed Schrodinger's arm, pulling her into a nearby room. The Aussie pulled her close to him protectively, but put his hand over her mouth. Schrodinger smelled a whiff of cigarette smoke. The soft clatter of shoes could be heard as she strained her ears to identify the man walking by. The Aussie tensed up when the man was right in front of the door, but let out a sigh of relief when he didn't stop to investigate.

"Bloody piker." The Aussie let go of Schrodinger as he glared down the hallway, his eyes following the suit til the man entered his room. "C'mon, then." He grabbed Schrodinger's arm and he led her down the hallway, to what she assumed to be his room. It was… plain to say the least. It had just a bed, a mirror, a desk and a closet. The Aussie closed the door behind him, locking it. Schrodinger sat down in the desk chair.

"I wonder, what will you do? I honestly couldn't care less about your secret society or whatever this is, but if you want to complicate things, fine. Makes my life more interesting." Her laugh was light, airy.  
>::<p>

The Aussie stopped for a moment, not knowing what she was playing at. Finally, he sighed and flopped down onto his bed.

"You know, I never did catch your name." He glanced up at the ginger. She stared back at him, curious and… trusting?

"You can call me Sniper. What about you?"

"Call me Schrodinger!" She grinned widely and spun around in her chair. "You mind if I just call you Snipes?"

"...I don't mind. Just as long as I can call you Schro." Sniper's lips formed a sideways grin, almost laughing at how enthusiastic the child was. _Actually… How old is she? She can't be more than sixteen, but… I get the feeling she isn't what she appears to be._ Sniper grabbed one of the pillows and his jacket and laid down on the floor.

"You can 'ave the bed, Schro. G'night."  
>::<p>

Schrodinger tilted her head at the strange man with a confused expression on her face. _At least his accent is back._ She shrugged and decided to accept his kindness, though. As she slipped into his bed, she couldn't help but wonder what tomorrow would bring.

* * *

><p>Author's Note: Is it bad that every time I think of Sniper, the song 'Down Under' (Men at Work) goes through my head? Anyways, how gentlemanly of him, to offer her his bed. Adorable. And that bloody spy… Always snoopin' when he doesn't need to be. Alright, so I'm sorry for the short chapter, but to be honest, a lot happened here. Kind of. Not really, I just felt like ending it here. See you next week, ya haters!<p> 


	4. Hard Liquor and a Baseball

The alert went off the same time every day, whether there was a match scheduled or not. _It was always going off at 8:00 in the bloody mornin'!_ Demoman snatched up a bottle of whiskey and trudged down the stairs, groggy from the previous night's partying. _If you could call it that._ He huffed grudgingly to himself. The RED team gathered in the kitchen, ready to pummel the BLU team the first chance they got.

"Oi! Git me a steak, would ye?" Demoman leaned back in his chair as he waited for his food. He heard a gasp from the fridge. Pyro turned to the others and muffled a terrified and worried jumble of… words? A few RED's exchanged what they thought he'd said to each other, almost placing bets before finally asking him to repeat in a less frantic manner. When Heavy went over to see what was wrong, Pyro decided it'd be better to show him.  
>::<p>

"Oh no! This is bad!" Heavy opened the fridge door wider, almost not believing what he saw, or, didn't see. Just at that moment, Sniper stumbled in, drowsy from forcing Schrodinger to stay in his room until he was done with this mission, and felt the full fury of Heavy. "Steak is gone!" Heavy shook poor Sniper mercilessly until Medic entered the room. "Doktor! We have emergency!"  
>::<p>

"Vhat is it?" Medic's heart leaped at the thought that someone might have burned themselves while making breakfast, until he saw what was going on. _Oh no… not again…_ "Listen, herr Heavy. Vhat do you say ve go into town and buy some more steaks after ze match, ja?"

"...Ok Doktor. But Heavy needs meat!" He sat down next to Engineer, pouting that all the steak was eaten up already.  
>::<p>

"No worries, mate! You can 'ave my sandwich, if ya like." Sniper offered Heavy his sandwich, and Heavy thanked the Aussie before devouring it. The marksman took his seat, feeling a little guilty that he knew who caused all of this, but he also knew he couldn't tell his team about her. _Not yet, anyway.  
><em>::

Spy observed Sniper's actions. _He's acting quite different, I think I shall keep a close eye on him for the next couple of days._

Scout entered the room, obviously peeved. He plopped down in one of the chairs next to Sniper, grabbing a can of _Bonk!_ from his hoodie. "Have any a you guys seen my baseball anywhere? I swear I had it yesterday…"

_Also uncharacteristic of Scout to lose his precious baseball. Might as well keep an eye on him while I'm out snooping around. Like a common criminal, hah!_ He laughed to himself in the corner of the room, sipping his coffee and flipping through his newspaper.

"So, uh, we gonna come up with some sort a strategy today?" Scout's eyes were bright as he hinted that he already had a plan to share.

"Alright, pardner, what's your plan this time?" Scout chuckled lightly before giving a cocky glance up at Engineer.

"Engie, please. Ya already know my plan. I'll go in, grab the case, and before the BLU's can blink, we win!" He chugged down his can of _Bonk!_, ignoring the irritated groans from his teammates.

"Look, mate. There's more to this-"

"Brother, don't worry. I got this." He crushed the can and threw it into the trash, oblivious to Sniper's slight nose twitch from being cut off so abruptly.

"Heavy thinks leetle man should prove himself." Heavy bit into the sandvich, hardly taking into account Scout's flaring nostrils before the Bostonian flew his arms up.

"Alright, fatso! Today I'm tha only one going against tha BLU's! You just sit there in tha intel room. An' make sure ta clap when I get there!" Scout stormed out of the room, his fists clenched.

"Merci, 'e was getting on my nerves." Spy took a drag from his cigarette before returning to his novel. _Such uninteresting men I work with. It would be a godsend for something new.  
><em>::

Schrodinger scanned the room for something to do. She found a notebook and a pencil, but that would prove boring after a measly 5 minutes of flipping through blank pages. _There are drawers in the desk, but snooping feels so…_ Unable to find the right word, she attempted to open the door to the room, but it was locked. _Dang. I wonder if I can use my portals now-_ _Success!_ A portal opened in front of her, it looked like it lead into another bedroom. Curious, Schro stepped in.

"Ooooh, liquor! What a pleasant surprise!" She smiled devilishly as she took one of the bottles. She opened another portal and teleported to the roof again. "Might as well enjoy my stay here." She set the bottle down beside her. _A bit of minor pilfering should go relatively unnoticed, save for occasional paranoia. _She tossed the ball up into the air a couple of times, pouting at a lack of anything exciting to do. She heard the distant murmur of breakfast banter and a wave of homesickness swept over her. Her mind wandered back to Baltimore in all it's glory, it's cobblestone streets shimmering after a brief shower. She sighed dreamily, trying to will herself not to become fixated on the city she'd abandoned- until she noticed that the ball hadn't come back down.

* * *

><p>Author's Note: Anti-gravity shit's goin' down. Swearzies.<p>

"I will read zhe comments if you take zhe time to write zhem properly. Adieu mon amis. I'm afraid zhe author-"

"Get outta here, stupid escargot!"

Ahem. Sorry about that. I know I've been pretty consistant with my uploads, but this month, I'm gonna try something different. I apologize in advance to those of you who have loyally followed my fanfiction. I appreciate it and I promise that I'm not dead, even if I go a couple of weeks without uploading anything. Don't be spreadin' rumors. See y'all next week!

"Zhat was hardly appropriate, Author."

"That reminds me, I do believe Pyro is meeting me up here in a couple of minutes..."

Hehe, if only you could see the look of terror on the escargot's face. Thank God I've been able to keep the Author's Notes away from the others so far. Do you even know how bad it would be if they saw these?

Again, sorry for not posting the story yesterday, the was doing maintenance or something. I'll be posting the next chapter the 14th.


	5. New Members and New Feelings

"Stand up, Maggot!" The man holding her baseball was sturdy, like your typical run-of-the-mill military man. He wore a helmet that went clear down til it covered his eyes. _Is everyone in this place so interesting?_ Schrodinger stood up and tilted her head questioningly towards Soldier. "If you don't want to get blown up I suggest you tell me your rank and purpose for being here, Maggot!"

"I'm Schrodinger. I'd like to join your army, sir." She noted that he talked fast and sternly, she can't joke around with a guy like that. This was her weaker territory when it came to persuasion. _Men who can't take a joke are just no fun to toy with. Unless...  
><em>::

"What makes you think I'd want the likes of you in my army? You're weak! You're puny! And you're a girl!" He'd said the last part of his sentence in a sneer. Schrodinger's eyes narrowed. Soldier suddenly felt a cold chill run up his arms, causing him to shiver.

"Question… If I assault an officer of higher rank than I, is it considered a felony according to the military guidelines?" Schrodinger inquired darkly as the man in front of her took a step back, eyes widening.

"Of course it's against the military guidelines!" Soldier didn't know what it was about this girl, but he didn't like it. He just wanted to get away from her. His instincts were spot on 37% of the time! _That means this girl is trouble!_

"Is that so?" She took a step closer to him. "What if I get permission from the officer to attack him in order to inform him of how strong I actually am?"

"Well… I…" Soldier didn't like where this was going at all. At this point, he was avoiding eye contact with the girl completely. His boots crunched heavily on the edge of the rooftop. The girl was inches away from him with a wicked gleam in her clover eyes. All it would take was one slight push and he'd plummet to his temporary death. _I have my pride to uphold! No little miss muffet is gonna break my streak of avoiding base respawn!_ "You… can join us. Just don't get in the way! Also, sit out the first battle, observe how the other team moves! That strategy will grant us victory!" Soldier finished quickly, hoping that the girl would be satisfied with that.  
>::<p>

"Awesome! You're the best!" Schrodinger lightly punched the Soldier in the arm before jumping down so she could make sure Snipes didn't find the room empty, in case he came back.  
>::<p>

Sniper chewed through his food slowly, thinking about the girl he left in his room. _Really, I'll only be gone for two hours, she'll be ok, right? But what if someone from HQ came down and found out about her? Also… why did she smile at me like that?_ He felt his face burning up as he sipped his coffee.

"Yo, Snipes! What're ya thinkin' about? Probably some hot lady friend. Am I right?" The Scout intruded Sniper's private little world constantly, and he even called him by the same nickname that Schro had chosen for him.

"Oi was just thinkin' 'bout the match today, mate." Sniper avoided eye contact with Scout.

"Oh, is it the coffee then? Cause your face is red, man!" The Scout cackled as the Sniper continued sipping his beverage.

"Actually, yeah. It is the coffee, _mate_. Now if you don't mind, oi'd like ta think about the battle a bit more. Alone."

"Tsh, whatever."

_Bloody hooligan. Needs to learn to mind his own business. But getting back to my previous thoughts: I still can't shake the feeling that Schro is gonna get into trouble. I mean, she raided the fridge last night, who knows what else she did? Wait, I left her alone in my room… With my drawers! _Another huge blush crept upon the Sniper's face at his sudden realization. He stood up and slung his rifle around his shoulder.

"Oi think I fergot somethin' in my room. I won't be a minute!" Sniper ran down the hallway, almost at a dead sprint. _I really hope she's not rutting through the closet. Oh my God, what if she finds my baby pictures?_ A horrified look spread across his face and he slowed down, in front of his door in record time.  
>::<p>

Spy decided to follow Sniper, though he didn't expect the man to run like the devil was chasing him! _What odd behaviour, could it be that he left the water running?  
><em>::

Sniper fumbled his keys into the lock, quickly turning it. He swung the door open, relieved that his room didn't look to have been rutted though. Schrodinger finished her quick sketch before reacting to Sniper's relieved sigh.

"Hi again, you already back from your mission?" She smiled at him, the same, beautiful, pearly white, hypnotizing...

"Uhh, no, oi was just about to leave, actually…"  
>::<p>

"So, what's wrong? You look like someone attacked you or something." Schrodinger looked at the Aussie with concern, but she was also curious. _What's he up to…?_

"Oi just… Oi just wanted to make sure you'd be ok for a few hours. Alone and all…" The Aussie was scratching the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed. But there was something else in his eyes; they flittered to look at Schro, but quickly leapt up to the ceiling in a less-than-hidden manner. Curiosity took the reigns as Schrodinger got up from the desk chair. She ambled over to the Aussie and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, Snipes. You don't have to worry about me. It's just a few hours. You're being way too dramatic." A slight pause. "I hate to rush you off to war, but you said this job of yours starts at 9:00, right?"  
>::<p>

"Yeah, Oi know, Oi'll see ya later, Schro." He turned and walked off, still able to feel the warmth of Schrodinger's hand on his shoulder. He closed his eyes as he cherished every second it stayed.  
>::<p>

The Frenchman gasped at what he saw. _A woman? Non, a girl! And, why was Sniper acting so…_ Another realization. One that made Spy feel bad for that child. If only he could warn her about what kind of animal Sniper really was. _On the field…_ He shuddered at the memories of gore and screams echoing through the BLU base.  
>::<p>

Sniper tried to gather his thoughts about how he was feeling. This girl had just come into his life, completely out of nowhere, and now… He was finding it impossible to be away from her! This was the worst possible situation that fate could have formulated. He entered the loading dock and glanced around. _Everyone's here… except Spy and Soldier. Ah, scratch that, here comes the bloody spook now. He's probably late cause he was writing down all the latest intel he gathered on us, sometimes I wish I could teamkill, if only for him… Did that sound a bit too vengeful?_

"Listen up, Maggots! I have an announcement!" Soldier entered via the side door to the garage.

"Vhat is it? Anozher pep talk from herr Soldier?" Heavy and the Medic exchanged glances when the Soldier didn't respond with his usual, 'Do not interrupt me, Maggots!'

"We have a new team member! And as the designated leader of the RED team, I have decided it would be best for them to wait one day on the sidelines and observe what it is we do here at RED. Do not disappoint them, Maggots! Is that understood?"

A couple of people on the RED team looked around, shrugging their shoulders with dull expressions on their faces.

"I have already called the Administrator and informed her of the situation. She will let us know after the battle today!"

Sniper gazed at the boring desert on the way to Teufort, thinking about a mad assortment of things while the others rough-housed in the confines of the rust bucket of a vehicle. He sighed as he tried not to worry about his little vixen.

* * *

><p>Author's Note: Tell me you weren't expecting a bit of romance on Valentine's day. <em>I dare you.<em> So, I'm going to actually wait until the 28th til I upload the next chapter, but until then, you can at least reread the story to see if you missed anything… Mehehehe.

"Hey, Author! When ya gonna shine tha light on tha real star of tha show?"

"Don't you have somewhere to be, Scout? You could be chasing off that spook that's been lovin' up on your mother, no?"

"That's just a rumor! … Spah! Get ova here!"

"Oi, is it healthy ta pit 'em against each other like that, Author?"

"Please. I'd think it's more than healthy."

"They're tearin' apart tha bloody kitchen!"

"Heh, what a beautiful father-son relationship."

"Yer sick, ya bloody leprechaun!"

"And you're drunk. Go home, Demo."

"Why should I? 'ere I thought ya'd be payin' us ta act in this lil skit, but noo!"

"The Scots and Irish never get along, do they?"

"'fraid not, partner."

"Just… please leave before you make me angry."

"Oh, I'd like ta see that! What are ya goin' ta do ta me, ya wee lassie?"

"Nothing. You'll find that I'm a very patient author. But grudges hold firm within my heart."

Obnoxious characters. Sometimes they're impossible to work with.

"Oi, Schro! You readin' this? Tha bloody Author's bad-mouthin' us!"

"Tsh, typical."

"I'm not bad-mouthing all of you. Just the ones that deserve it."

Anyways, I'd best be going before they make my ears bleed. For a bunch of heartless mercenaries, they sure are touchy. Maybe I should be more careful about what I write in the Author's Note in the future though... Nah!

"I 'eard that, ye bloody leprechaun!"


	6. Schro and Miss Pauly

Schrodinger easily escaped from Sniper's room. It's as if he'd never held someone captive before. _Either that or he wasn't even trying._ The door was locked, but the key was still in the door.

_I couldn't help but smile, the guy's adorable!_

_Uh, huh… Question, when are we getting out of here? Maverick will most definitely be concerned by now, you never miss a day!_

_Whatever, I'm intrigued by these people. Maverick can take his pals and shove them up his-_

_So… You planning on exploring?_

_Yeah. I wanna see what else these peeps are hiding in their rooms._

_Course. You know, stealing and snooping aren't necessarily considered-_

_Good? Yeah, we get it, but neither is killing, you were quiet then, so why don't you shut yer trap now?_ She tiptoed through the halls playfully, occasionally looking in any room that might happen to be unlocked.

_Well, I've been thinking maybe we could veer off the path of crime, y'know? This trip to the desert is our chance to redeem ourselves._

_Please, if I wanted saving, I'd only stab the saviour in the back after he gave his blessing. Maybe spread his blood all over, make a pretty picture of it. Sounds nice, don't it?_

_You're sick, you know that? I thought all of that blood drawing was to mock the police, but no, you actually enjoy it, don't you?_

_Most definitely._

A long pause ensued as the three personalities heard a vehicle pull up to the complex. Schrodinger leaned against the window, eager to see if she knew the person. It was a slender woman with dark brown hair, much like Yin. But this woman was an American. _What a disappointment._ The woman wore a short purple skirt and a purple jacket, with purple heels… Purple... Purple glasses...

Come to think of it, Snipes, the guy in the suit and the Soldier all had matching colors in their outfits. If only we had that kind of co-ordination back in Balty.

_Question, what's that in her arms?_

The woman was carrying a folder and a pen, she hurried to the door of the complex as Schrodinger rushed down the stairs to meet her.

_How exciting! Maybe we'll get to rip her to shreds! Can I be in charge for this one?_

_Shush. She might be of some use to me. Let's wait before killing her._

"Hello? Young lady, I need to talk to you real quick!" _The woman is addressing me? Right, cause I joined the 'army' when I talked to the Soldier earlier. This must be a lacky sent here to confirm things for her boss._

Schrodinger stepped into view and took in the woman's presence. She was a determined individual, and a hard worker. _Maybe a little overworked._ She gasped when she saw me.

"Hey, I'm Miss Pauling." Her eyes darted to her left as she held out her hand for me to shake. _Odd behaviour for a businesswoman._ I shook her hand, but I stayed on my guard.

"Schrodinger. It's a pleasure to meet you." She smiled before pulling out a pen.

"The Administrator would like to know more about you before she allows you to become a member of this team."

"So that's what the folder's for?"

"Yes. Also… Since we don't have a record on you, we'll need you to be a neutral party. Can you fight?"

"Yup."

"What weapons?" Schro shrugged.

"Virtually any, but I like throwing knives." She nodded slowly before writing something down.

"Are you good with hand to hand, or are you more reserved?"

"In all honesty, I'm good with both. I prefer hand-to-hand because it ensures me that the target isn't playing dead." She smiled before jotting down some more notes.

"Offensive, Defensive, or Support?" Schrodinger pondered this a moment.

"I tend to be more offensive, but as with your other questions, I'm rather flexible in my profession." She shuffled over to the wall, nibbling on the end of her pen. As she leaned against it, I couldn't help but notice she was going over things in her head.

"You really are a Neutral party." Miss Pauling laughed a tad, as if trying to force it. _She's visibly uncomfortable. I wonder why...?_ The air was filled with a foreign melody that proved to be her cell phone. _Not a bad ring tone, though I've heard better ones._ She smirked as sweet memories filled her thoughts.

"Administrator? Yes, she's here."

"No, she didn't mention- You want to- Okay." She raised her eyebrow at the extended phone in front of her, as if it were from another planet. Schrodinger took the phone, thanking Miss Pauling.

"Hello?"

"You are to be a strictly hand-to-hand combat class. You may borrow other mercenaries' weapons if you deem it necessary, but you are not allowed to keep your own."

"Alright. Who all will I be fighting against?"

"Miss Pauling will give you a file of all the classes." There was a momentary silence on the other end of the line. "Tell me, do you have any mental disorders?"

"None that are legally diagnosed, but I'm pretty sure I have multiple personality disorder. One's benign, one's evil, and the last is cool with whatever. Why?"

"... I will accommodate this minor setback. Just make sure to do your job when on the field." _Harsh, calling a mental illness a minor setback._

"I'm pretty sure the evil personality will be a bit... off the rails."

"Schrodinger. I'll take care of it. Do _not_ disappoint me." I heard a click on the other end as she hung up. _What a woman. But at least she gets to the point. I think I like that. Probably one of her only good values, though._

"Is everything okay?" Miss Pauling leaned down to meet my gaze, almost forcing herself onto my train of thought. _Tickets only._

"Yeah."

"The Neutral base will be ready in about three days. That way you won't have to stay here with all these sweaty men." Her nose crinkled up in a joking manner, as if she were talking to a child. I decided to humor her by laughing along. With my complexion, many people assume I'm younger than I actually am. Thanks to that, I've gained some stellar acting skills to get me places I wouldn't have been able to go if my enemies knew my true age. My work with Maverick demands a good double agent. I'm exactly that. The only problem has been Drake's ability to follow orders to a key and Eli's willingness to sin. Other than that, my work with the mafia has gone rather smoothly.

"So, where's the file of the people I'll be working with?"

"Right here." I opened the folder to see a helmet staring back at me. Soldier. _That's literally his job title._ Waves around a shovel, can rocket jump... _sounds fun._

"Can I keep this?" She nodded.

"Would you accompany me to the Headquarters? We can discuss more there." Schrodinger flipped the page over to see an adolescent. Scout. Baseball junkie that uses a scatter-gun and drinks way too much caffeine.

"Sure, why not?"  
>::<p>

Sniper aimed his rifle at the enemy Pyro. _Not this time, mate._ His shot echoed through the room as he took a sip of his coffee. _I wonder who the new recruit is… Maybe it's a canine unit, a tracker of sorts. Maybe they found an Irish sailor to drink away the pain with Demoman._ He chuckled as he reloaded his rifle, listening for footsteps and sniffing the air, waiting for the spook to come in at any moment. His mind wandered to his room, remembering Schro's comforting face as she put her hand on his shoulder. _Such a sweet girl doesn't belong anywhere near the field. When I get back, I'll tell her she can leave. Yeah… That's what's best for the both of us. _

He shivered and a small tear fell from his deep blue eyes, which he quickly wiped away, refocused on the battle of Teufort. A faint smile shown on his lips. _I'm really gonna miss that little vixen._

* * *

><p>Author's Note:<p>

"That's some shonky business right there, mate. I don't like Schro!"

"Uh-huh. I never said you do. This is just a skit, after all."

"I'd like ta be taken out of it, since yer so adamant that I'm in love with tha lil vixen!"

"Alright. Don't have to be so defensive."

"Wait, what are you…"

Can't wait for the next chapter to be uploaded, can you, my loving audience?

"Oi."


	7. Author's Observations

I watched solemnly as Schrodinger entered Miss Pauling's van bound for HQ. It can get quite boring here at the base during the battles, and without Schro here I might as well be at an insane asylum with how my thoughts bounce around in my head.

One thing I've noticed is that not all of the script was followed. A few things were added in by the mercenaries, some by Miss Pauling, some by Schro. But what I find the most odd about all of this is that I should be able to control every one of their movements. What they say, what they do, what they think.

But then a thought comes to mind. What if they aren't just _characters_? What if they somehow took control mid-play? With how rambunctious the mercenaries can get and how unpredictable Schrodinger is, I wouldn't dismiss that theory. Still… I seem to have _some_ control over where the story goes. Maybe I'm just such a bad Author that I let the characters take over the story? Is that even possible? Circling back to the insane asylum theory.

I sighed as I headed towards the kitchen. I tend to binge eat when I'm bored. Despite that, I still retain womanly curves. I blame teenage metabolism stretching beyond its limits. I'm not complaining, don't get me wrong. It's just that, I like poking belly fat. It entertains me.

The clicking of shoes is what first put me on high alert. I grabbed the milk out of the fridge. Schro was considerate enough to leave some for me. I glanced over to the doorway when the steps stopped.

"Hm. Must have been my imagination acting up." I dragged out my most sarcastic tone. No one was there, but I could feel the shift in the air. I know Spy can turn invisible, but only for a short time. What was it, five minutes until his invisa-watch runs out? Isn't he supposed to be battling it out at Teufort? Lazy Escargot.

My eyes returned to the fridge as if I were ignoring the interruption. I grabbed out the steak and licked my lips. Freaking yes. Although the mercenaries are going to hate me for it, I won't regret one bite of this. I also grabbed out an apple, on the off chance that the steak doesn't fill me up, perhaps the apple will finish the job. As I said earlier: teenage metabolism. It really is wearing out its welcome.

I set the apple on the oak table, eager to cook the steak. A smile spread across my face as I remembered the first steak I'd cooked. It was in high school and it had turned out decent, but it still lacked a certain flair. After that, I had experimented with different spices until I found the perfect combination. Unfortunately for Schrodinger, that recipe is going to follow me to my grave.

Finding the essential spices in a kitchen was never this impossible before! You'd think that even mercenaries would keep things stocked up, but I couldn't even find the red pepper flakes! I swore under my breath, wishing Schro were here to get me all the ingredients without the bat of an eyelash.

I heard the rustling of cloth behind me. I whirled around to find myself alone, yet again. It had been over five minutes. I narrowed my eyes til they were nearly closed, allowing my ears to go back on instinct (I can wiggle my ears and sometimes when I feel threatened, they move on their own. Dun worry about it). Hands rolled up into fists, I turned back to the cabinets. A light tapping on my shoulder made me freeze as I reached for the paprika.

"Might I inquire as to who the Hell is ballsy enough to aggravate me this much?" A quiet, stifled laugh emanated from an invisible space. My eyes scanned the area, my lips pursed.

"In due time, mon ami." The clicking of shoes crossed the room towards the table. In an instant, the apple disappeared.

"Tch, I was gonna eat that."

"Along with zhat steak? You must 'ave _some_ appetite." I grabbed the paprika from the shelf and set it down next to the mass of other ingredients.

"Of course, you don't expect an Author like myself to type up a decent story while running on empty, do you, crepe?" I heard him pause in his munching.

"Ez zhat my nickname? You couldn't come up with anything more… creative?" Or less offensive. I chuckled as I stirred together the various spices.

"I think it fits you rather nicely." I smirked, despite feeling uneasy at his silence. Although I can't necessarily _die_, I'd rather not have a knife in my back.

"I would prefer a different one." He said cooly. I looked over to the table, where I assumed he was, and raised an eyebrow.

"You're quite persnickety, aren't you?" I heard him scoff. My mouth formed a mischievous grin. "Perhaps I should just call you un harceleur? It isn't a food-based nickname, but it fits what little I know about you so far."

"I don't 'ave to put up with zhis…" The half-eaten apple reappeared on the table. I smirked as I heard his expensive shoes stomp out of the kitchen. I really should ease up on the poor bastard. I'm probably the first person he's talked to in a while, only God knows how long he's been invisible.

I rubbed the spices onto the steak, incorporating them well while humming a tune I'd heard from a movie. Then the humming formed into me singing.

"_I hear the moon, singing a tune._

_La Seine, La Seine, La Seine._

_Is she divine? Is it the wine?_

_La Seine, La Seine, La Seine._

_I don't know, don't know. So don't ask me why._

_Tell me why, La Seine and I._

_I don't know, don't know. So don't ask me why._

_Tell me why, La Seine and I._"

I plopped the steak into the skillet with melted butter. Stupid Eau is too sensitive. That's my actual nickname for him, but I think I'll tease him a bit more before letting him know that. Although I can't see him, maybe it's more fun to guess what his face looks like.

After eating, I waltzed through the hallways towards the roof. I normally type my story up there. One: it's quiet. Not many people go up to the roof, even if they want to talk to me. Past experience has deterred Scout, for the most part. I grinned as I remembered his rapidly swelling face filled with shock, simultaneously yelling for Medic.

I swung open the door to the roof, taking in a breath of fresh air. It's about six in the evening, yet the sun still hasn't set. It's close, but it'll take a few hours yet. I posed with my fists on my hips like I could tackle anything the world threw at me. My chest was puffed out and my chin held high. My green eyes sparkled bright in the desert sun.

"Are you enjoying yourself, petite?" I could take on anything but that. Instantly, my teeth clenched.

"How long have you been here?"

"I asked first." I stuffed my hands in my pockets as I scanned the area, trying to find where the voice was coming from.

"Yeah, I like it here. Can get a bit boring sometimes, but I can't complain." I gave up on my search an sat down on the edge of the roof. A ghost of a smile appeared on my face when I saw all the bullet holes in the range below me.

"I've been 'ere since zhe end of our conversation." I jumped at the voice right beside me. I imagine he's smirking right now, smarmy bastard.

"I'm probably going to get in trouble with Sniper for leaving that apple half-eaten. Thanks for that." I put my chin on my hands, looking out to the desert with a distant look in my eyes.

"I wouldn't worry about zhat filthy jarman. I tend to leave apple cores behind occasionally. Zhey probably think it's a mouse." I heard him chuckle, but there was an air of sadness to it that made me look over.

"When was the last time you talked to them, anyways?" A long silence.

"When I realized zhe invisa-watch 'ad malfunctioned, I tried to ask zhe laborer to fix it, but he simply thought I was 'messing with 'im'." He sighed. I can't possibly imagine how lonely it must be for him, and to be abandoned like that by his own teammates? They didn't know, but it would be enough to drive anyone to drinking.

"When was the last time you had a cigarette?"

"You misunderstand, I still 'ave my weapons as well as my cigarettes-"

"Answer the question." I said sternly yet concerned.

"A week ago. I 'ave been trying to quit." I bit my thumbnail. In other words, he's trying to disappear completely. How depressed _is_ this guy?

"Smoke. I have nothing to say to you until you do." I got up from the ledge and headed for the door that lead off of the roof. The sound of footsteps behind me caused a slight migraine to form. Seems he isn't going down without a fight.

"Where else are you going to write? Zhe second zhose fools get back, you'll 'ave to come back 'ere." I could hear the desperation in his words, but I could also hear a bit of haughtiness. I smirked as I opened the door.

"There's always the hayloft. Or the attic. You know now that you mention it, there are a ton of places I can go where I won't be disturbed." The door clicked behind me. I made my way down the stairs.

The hayloft is too smelly. The attic is too dusty. The only place I've found comfort is now guarded by a spook who won't smoke. Fuck my life. What about the kitchen? Binge eating would be too tempting. It's bad enough as it is. The front porch of the base? Hm… I knit my eyebrows together and headed out to the porch.

It's small, but it's clean aside from some dirt on the steps. The railing seems sturdy enough to hold my weight. I jiggled it a couple of times before catapulting myself onto it. Comfy. Not the word to describe it, but it'll do. I grabbed my notebook out of my satchel as well as my pen. I know Sniper is going to hate me for this but it's not like he didn't ask for it. An evil grin spread across my face as I began writing the next chapter.

I didn't notice it at first, probably because I was so focused on the writing, but something was different. I nibbled on the end of my pen, trying to identify the foreign feeling. Cigarettes. I took a deep breath and nearly choked at their overwhelming aroma. The invisible frenchman chuckled behind me, sending a jolt of both fury and panic through me. Two things: I hate it when he does that, and _how_ does he do that? I made sure to close the doors behind me as quickly as possible.

"Well, petite? I'm waiting." I turned to give him an earful, but the railing decided it'd had enough. It collapsed beneath me, and I shut my eyes at the pain that… never came. Strong arms had caught me before I could follow the railing down. I cleared my throat and instantly the arms pulled back.

"Thanks Eau. Might've been embarrassing if-"

"Eau?" I stopped picking up the bits of railing, biting my lip viciously. Darn.

"Yeah, I decided that'd be your nickname." I heard snickering in front of me, but it wasn't mocking or anything like that. It almost sounded… happy. I punched at the space where I thought Eau's shoulder would be. My fist connected lightly with his arm.

"I like it. Merci." I smiled as I picked up the rest of the railing, some of which had disappeared. I started to put it back together with the invisible man assisting me occasionally.

"So, if you're invisible and unable to fight, why don't you just leave the base? There are plenty of jobs outside that you could do." A long silence greeted me and a small knot formed in my stomach. Perhaps this will be a subject to stay away from. Nah.

"I would rather stay." His voice was quiet, almost trembling. I tilted my head as I put the last piece on the railing. I tore out a page from my notebook and labeled the railing 'In Disrepair'.

"Shall we?" I gestured to the door, trying to change the subject.

"Of course." I felt him brush up next to me, freaking fancy suit. "Do you play chess, mon ami?"

"Checkers is a simpler game. I dig the simplicity in life." I smiled as we walked through the empty corridors. It's kinda nice having someone to talk to, even if it is Eau. I suppose we're like friendly rivals. I hate not seeing who I'm talking to and he hates how temperamental I am. At least, I think he does. This is all guesswork.

"What books 'ave you read?"

"I hardly read. Unless something is recommended to me or I'm forced into it, I won't read." His steps stopped. Must have really surprised him.

"Zhat ez terribly irresponsible, being an unread Author." I opened my mouth to speak, but he put his hand over it, effectively shushing me but causing anger to simmer. "I know, you 'ave an excellent vocabulary, but zhat alone will not make an audience interested. You must 'ave drama, angst, friendship, feeling!" An awkward silence followed as he must have realized he was still holding my mouth closed. "Humor and romance." I flared my nostrils a couple of times before smacking away his hand. Damn spook is trying to school me when I'm writing a play about his colleagues!

"Excuse the fourth wall break, but if I'm the Author, then you're the commenters." I could almost see his freaking smirk. "Only Frenchier and less kind."

"Excusez moi? I admit to zhe first accusation, but do not forget who prevented your little mishap earlier." I winced. Touche.

"So, what do you usually do here? I mean, you've probably read all of those books already." I changed the subject, resulting in his immediate laughter.

"Zhere are many secrets 'ere in zhis base. If you want, I could show zhem to you." I raised an eyebrow.

"What's the catch? Spies don't share secrets, ever." I felt an arm rest on my shoulder.

"I simply wish to entertain you. I wouldn't want to bore my only company." He purred into my ear.

"Hm. You must be really bored to share such 'confidential information'." I emphasized by making quotes with my fingers. He steered me into the hallway that lead to the meeting room.

"I used to come in 'ere to watch zhe fights, but it often ended in my reminiscing and getting 'orribly drunk." He pushed open the double doors and flicked on the lights. I quickly surveyed the room to take in every detail. Nine chairs around a circular table that had an intercom system in the middle. Beside it was an ashtray with a freshly placed cigarette.

I didn't see any monitors until Spy pushed a button on the intercom system. The back wall dropped down, revealing viewpoints even the Administrator would be envious of. My eyes lit up at the potential that could be harvested and baked into my writing. The monitors even changed to different angles if I pawed at a scroll ball in the center of the control panel.

My cheeks started burning when I realized I'd been smiling this entire time. I took a step back and coughed. Still, this is one Hell of a secret to show an Author.

"I appreciate you showing me this, Eau." I zoomed in on a familiar object in Sniper's nest, but before I could make any important connections, BLU Pyro's rampaging through the fort caught my attention. I found it difficult to look away as the flames engulfed the surrounding mercenaries.

"I take it you adore zhe Pyro's fire?" I nearly forgot about Eau, I was so captivated.

"Yeah. Being a Spy, you probably don't share my admiration, huh?"

"Just because I am a Spy does not mean I cannot respect zhe mumbling abomination, petite." I raised an eyebrow. Didn't he just contradict himself? Whatever, he's probably just a hypocrite or something. Bipolar maybe. Indecisive?

"Hey Eau, which team were you on? I guess you were a RED, considering you're here in the RED's base, but I just wanted confirmation." He stayed silent. A common occurrence it seems. I glanced behind me briefly, a look of wonder on my face. If he was from the RED team, wouldn't he just admit it right away?

"Are you biased towards either of zhe teams?" I turned back to the monitors, shrugging slightly.

"Although I might show it in my writing, I like to think I treat them equally. Even if I do write about one more than another, it's usually due to extenuating circumstances. Why?" An invisible hand moved the scroll wheel, panning the camera across the battlefield. The RED Soldier's rocket blasted a BLU sentry to bits, resulting in the RED Scout yelling that he didn't need assistance.

"Zhe reason I 'aven't been entirely ecstatic at zhe thought of being visible again ez because I am a BLU." I attempted to hide the surprise by focusing on the monitors, but I was hardly registering what was going on at Teufort. He's a BLU? … Why didn't he just leave to get his own team to fix the invisa-watch?

"Eau, I'm going to ask you a question and I want you to answer it truthfully."

"Alright."

"Why did you stay here when your invisa-watch malfunctioned?"

"In short, curiosity. As a Spy, I found it was almost my duty not to let zhis golden opportunity go to waste." The camera stopped on the BLU Spy as he carried the briefcase across the bridge to the BLU fort.

"Have you ever thought of riding along with the RED team, just to be on the field again?" I heard him gulp.

"I 'ave. But what if a stray bullet 'appened to 'it me right between zhe eyes?" Sounds like he's angry. I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to decide on what to tell him.

"You're still technically a BLU, don't you have respawn chips or something?"

"... Oui. But if a member of zhe team goes AWOL or ez pronounced dead, zhe higher ups often remove zhe respawn data." I took this into consideration as I leaned up against the control panel. Does that mean that if Schrodinger just up and left, she wouldn't be hunted down by any goonies? I bit my thumb nail trying to work out the kinks in the logic.

"How many people have been replaced since you've been here?"

"Just me and zhe RED Spy." I heard his disguise kit click open, likely to get another cigarette.

"And you've seen the records erased?" The flicking of his lighter did little to distract him from the question. He sighed and, at the absence of smoke in the air, I guess he wasn't able to lit his cancer stick.

"Non, zhe only proof zhat zhe records might 'ave been erased zhat I 'ave ez zhe warning zhat was on zhe contract when I signed it years ago." I heard him sigh heavily. My brow arched up in a skeptical look. All he has is that idle threat? He didn't do any digging to see if it held any ground? That doesn't sound like the personality of a Spy.

"You said there are many secrets in this base. Are there backup respawn records stored anywhere?"

"If zhere ez, I 'aven't found zhem." His accent was growing thicker.

"Perhaps some good old-fashioned corporate espionage is in order then, no?" My devilish smirk widened as an unlit cigarette fell harmlessly to the floor.

* * *

><p>Author's Note: Whew, that was a doozy of a chapter to write. I'm not used to writing about invisible people. I usually use expressions in my writing to convey emotions, so perhaps this will help me grow as a writer.<p>

Right now I'm hanging out on the roof with Invisa-Spy. Though he still doesn't want to smoke in case it attracts unwanted attention, I can tell the addiction still bothers him. Even before he took a drag earlier today, it was like he was begging for someone to tell him to smoke. Withdraws can be a bastard.

"Mon ami?"

"Yeah, Eau?"

"... Merci."

"Tch. Shut up."

I still find it annoying how he likes to hang around me when I'm writing, but I suppose I can't blame him. Anyways, next upload will be on the 17th. Saint Patty's Day FTW!


	8. A New Member?

_Victory!_

At the beginning of the match, the Administrator told us that we were to gather in the meeting hall for an important announcement. It was extraordinarily rare for the Administrator to call upon the Mercs, but that just added to the mystery.

"Yo, Snipes! What do ya think tha ol' witch is gonna tell us?" I was eavesdropping on their conversation, I must admit, but it's a force of habit.

"We'll find out soon enough now won't we, Lil Ankle-Biter?" They're so casual, I almost envy them. I took out my disguise kit, also containing my stash of cigarettes, and lit a guilty pleasure. I waltzed into the conference room, taking a drag to prepare me for the headache that would surely ensue.

"Hey Tex, you know where the Admin is, by any chance?" _Oh no, here goes. _The teams can never be in the same room at the same time, they always fight with their copies.

"Nope. Why don't you get outta my face, eh Tex?"

"Heavy doesn't feel so good… Heavy feels like puking from little man-baby's words!"

"Cry some more, is funny to me!" _Why don't they ever learn to find common ground?_ Unlike them, the RED Spy and I have an agreement not to talk during these meetings, because we're the worst of the lot. We literally had to be pulled apart before we could murder each other last time. The words that were flung between us were bitter and coarse. Not the most elegant thing to witness. Hence, the agreement.

I looked towards the doorway as I heard the clicking of heels. I leaned against the wall in the corner and took another drag of my cigarette, savoring it's spicy taste before the Administrator's presence ruined it. _Distasteful, how that woman can curdle the tobacco. You'd think I'm being funny, but it really tastes like curdled milk when she enters the room._ I dropped the cigarette into the ashtray and crossed my arms, preparing myself mentally for the yelling and viper-like words of that woman. I glanced around the room at the bickering men, I almost had to chuckle. They knew full well that the Admin would chew them out, yet they couldn't stop fighting. _How immature._

"Good evening, gentlemen. I'd appreciate it if you would _not_ add to my migraine." The heels dug into the floor as the stick-figured woman clawed her eyes into every man's skulls. Such piercingly evil eyes, it sent chills down my spine when I imagined what she was like as a child. _I also feel sorry for Ms. Pauling, having to deal with this devil woman on a daily basis would be maddening._ _Props to her for sticking with it. I'll have to remember to send her a pity card._

"As you all know, I have gathered you here for an announcement. So let me cut to the chase. There's going to be a new member added. They're a neutral party and are going to switch teams each day. Since BLU won today, they get to house them." The Administrator leaned against the table, acting as if she'd been speaking plain as day the entire time. I exchanged glances with Engineer and shrugged.

"So, uh, what do we call tha newbie?" _Damn Scout._ He's always annoying the Administrator with his pesky questions. And often, he gets yelled at the most for it.

"Their job title is Schrodinger. I expect you to prepare a room for them before midnight. Is that clear?"

I saw the RED Sniper tense up, but other than that the other team was unresponsive. The Administrator bid us a good night and left us all questioning if she were serious or not. I pushed off the wall. "Well, we should get back to ze base, non? If we are going to prepare a room for ze newly arriving teammate, zhey are going to want it nicely furnished, oui?"

"Yeah… Good idea, Spy." The Scout scratched the back of his head, probably still confused.

On the way to the van, we talked about where we could put Schrodinger.

"He could room vith me for zhe night." The Medic offered, a gleam in his eyes. He was probably more interested in learning about the person than letting them sleep. _Schrodinger… Isn't that and Austrian name? No wonder the German's interested._ I chuckled to myself at the possible scenarios that could happen when Medic meets that poor new recruit.

"I think not. How about we let zhem sleep in zhe dining room? God knows zhat would be zhe best thing we could do for zhem."

"What's that supposed ta mean, Spah?" _Scout again._

"It means zhat you people eat like filthy animals. Ravaging zhe meals as if you 'aven't been fed in weeks."

"Alright! We'll let the newbie sleep in tha dining room. Geez."

"Heh, don't let Spy wiggle his way into yer head, Scout. It's just the way he is." _Engineer always has such a way of saying that I'm offensive without spelling it out. _

We piled into the van, and I noticed an envelope on my seat. I put it into my jacket to read later. I watched the boring landscape pass by as my mind wandered. I wondered what Schrodinger looked like… _What's their fighting tactic? Where are they from? Are they polite, or rambunctious? Can they keep secrets, or are they a gossiper? Do they like smoking or drinking? But most importantly, why did they join as a neutral party? I've never heard of anything like that before._

I glanced over at Scout, who was sketching up a decent rendering of what he must have assumed Schrodinger looks like. He depicted a man with thinning gray hair and high cheekbones.

"Hey Spah, what d'ya think?" I looked at my watch and shrugged in response. It was already 10:30, that wouldn't give us a ton of time to ready for the arrival of our new comrade. I started going over all of the things that we would have to do when we got to the base. Mainly, straighten out our attitudes.

"Gentlemen, I suspect zhat zhis new recruit ez a veteran. If you would all act on your best behavior, I am sure zhat zhey would appreciate it."

"I am always on my best behavior! Having said that, I will be in charge of assigning tasks to you maggots!"

"Okay zhen, Soldier. Who's going to clean zhe couch cushions?"

"Medic."

"And zhe tapestries?"

"Scout."

"Zhe table?"

"Sniper."

"Oi."

"You're just throwing names out zhere, aren't you?"

"Of course! This random ordering will guarantee victory!" I sighed out of frustration. This man is more delusional than I initially thought.

"Zhis was a huge waste of my time."

"Heavy will clean table." I smiled at his offer.

"Alright, any other volunteers?"

"I'll sweep the floor, mate. Maybe dust the ceilin' first."

"I vill vash the dishes and clean up the kitchen."

"Yo, I'll help Doc with the kitchen."

"Mmph mmph mh mmmph." _He'll take the tapestries._

"Excellent. I'll wash zhe sofa and arrange zhe room for our guest."

"I will clean all of the windows!"

"Aye, I got tha shopping. Schro will be hungry when he gits here, I can assure you of that!"

"I'll make sure all of the lighting works. Don't want our friend to git left in the dark."

I looked at my watch as we pulled into the base parking. 10:50. That gives us just over an hour before Schrodinger is supposed to be here.

"Alright men! Scatter!"

It was a grueling hour. I never knew how filthy our dining room and kitchen was until that evening. At one point, there was a war of the sponges, which was quickly expelled by Heavy due to a lack of time, and the fact that the sponges were covered in dust and other various items left to rot on the floor throughout the year. Demoman took the van into town to buy groceries and other miscellaneous items to help decorate the dining area. Luckily, his encounter with the Administrator made him sober enough to remember everything on the list. _One of her few good qualities._

The clock struck twelve as the mercenaries put the finishing touches on the room. Demo put the groceries away, Medic shined the handles of the cabinets, I made an incredibly homely living space with the materials provided, Heavy lit the candles on the table, Pyro stared at the candles with mild amusement, Soldier put away the sponges and the buckets, though he wanted to keep at least one of the buckets out, insisting that Schrodinger would feel more at home with it. Sniper emptied out the garbage, Scout threw his baseball up and down as he leaned against the wall, and Engineer screwed in the last light bulb for the room.

"I'd say we've done good, mates!"

"Hey, uh, when's he supposed to get here, anyway?"

"Zhe Administrator told us midnight, but it looks like zhey are running late." _Poor Ms. Pauling. She's probably been working just as hard as they have to prepare the new recruit._

"Mmph! Mh mmph mmmph!" _What? It must be Schrodinger!_ Like a bunch of children, we all hurried towards the windows, giddy at the thought of seeing our new comrade. Ms. Pauling rushed out of the driver seat and opened the passenger door. _Damn, Schrodinger's wearing a hooded cape!_ They nodded to each other and Ms. Pauling drove off, leaving Schrodinger standing out in the cold desert air. They turned towards the base and began to walk in, but looked up into the window all of the mercenaries were gathered at. All we could see was a pearly white smile stretch across the pale figure's face.

"Dude, did you see those teeth? They're wickedly sharp! You think Schro's a vamp?"

"Do not be ridiculous, Scout. Vampires do not exist."

"Neither does a system that allows a person to die and come back to life just fine." _The Respawn System. Well played, Scout._

Footsteps echoed down the hallways as Schrodinger got closer and closer to the dining room. I could actually hear everyone holding their breath with anticipation, anxious to see what our new compatriate and their attitude would bring.

"Whew, I'm tired! Looks like you guys cleaned this place up before I got here. I thank you for that." _What exactly are my eyes seeing…?_

Before us stood a woman, no, a girl with fiery red hair and blazing green eyes. Her skin was pale, but dotted with freckles. Her arms were small and slender, her nails were long, like those of someone who hadn't worked a day in their life. She wore a short sleeved t-shirt and shorts with tennis shoes and neon orange socks. She looked like she was no more than eighteen!

"I'm Schrodinger." She smiled genuinely at her gaping audience, letting out a sweet laugh that sounded like she was up to no good, but she knew no one was going to stop her.

"Ahem, Velcome to ze BLU base. I hope to get to know you, herr Schrodinger." Medic shook hands with Schro, an ecstatic look on his face. We all took our turns greeting and saying goodnight to her, leaving the room so that she could get some sleep before tomorrow's battle.

Back in my room, I flopped on the bed and took out the envelope that was in the van earlier. I opened it and read it's contents, absorbing every word of it.

The Administrator put me in charge of being Schrodinger's best friend and her worst enemy.

Let me explain. The envelope states that Schrodinger has multiple personality disorder. Three personalities to be exact. One angelic, one neutral, and one that's sadistic. In the event that the sadistic personality comes to the surface, I am to 'take care' of Schrodinger before she executes anyone. My heart sunk as I pictured her smile in my mind. _This is bad. I know I can't get attached when I have an assignment, but that smile was too marvelous to escape my eye._ I rubbed my temples, trying to rid myself of the beautiful visage.

* * *

><p>Author's Note:<p>

"Oi, Author. Ya think you're bein' funny, don't ya?"

"You told me you wanted to be separated from Schrodinger, so I obliged."

"You must be sick in tha head! You sent my lil vixen over ta those wankers! Wot's wrong with you?!"

"Relax. You worry too much. Care for a cigarette? Might calm you down-"

"And ruin my lungs with one a those cancer sticks? I'd rather not."

"Vhy are you staying here at the RED base, Author? Shouldn't you have followed herr Schrodinger?"

"Yeah, but my planning skills are amazing and I don't like traveling. Plus, the seared steaks here are amazing!"

"Oh NOOOOO, this is bad!"

Mehehehe. Hopefully this drives them all mad. See you in the next chapter!


	9. Empty Spaces

The year was ****, but that's not important right now. I looked around the corner to see if I was still being tailed. The man in an overly obvious trenchcoat turned away from me. _He must be the worst tail I've ever seen, but his tracking skills are impeccable. The persistent bastard has been following me since noon. To give you a better idea of how fed up I am, the moon is already at its peak in the sky._

I growled as I turned into an alleyway, hoping the fire escape would deter my stalker into finally leaving me alone. My suave blue silk gloves unhooked the ladder with ease, allowing it to slide down without so much as the rattle of its rust. I scaled it, not looking down to see if he had seen or was following. My only goal was to get away.

The view was fantastic, but the clouds' beauty would have to wait to be savored until another night; perhaps later on if I managed to slip away. Normally, when a person is being followed, they question 'why?'. I have been a spy for too long to question motives in my head; it distracts me from my goal to survive. I lept to an adjacent rooftop, nearly losing my footing on the hand shingling.

Metallic sounds rushed to my ears when I realized my stalker had a gun. I ducked behind an air vent before he had a chance to shoot. My trained eyes searched the roof for more protection, an escape route, anything. If this had been a chess match, I'd have been caught in a checkmate. No where to hide but where I am, no fire escapes, no buildings close to this one aside from the one I'd just left. _End of the line._

I already exhausted one of my options for a spy. Now it's time to fight. My italian shoes pivoted to face the irking man. He was slightly larger than myself, but it looked like he was avoiding putting pressure on his left leg. Perhaps a twist while he was pursuing me? _How thoughtful of you, Lady Luck._

"I 'ave 'ad enough of zhis chase. What ez it you want?"

"Do you not remember me, you fucking traitor?!" He took off his tophat, revealing a cascade of white, spiky hair. My eyes widened.

"Jacques…? I thought… I thought zhey killed you!" He merely scoffed, bitterness lining his eyes in a manner that was all too familiar for me.

"Wouldn't that have made it easier? No, _mon ami_. I lived after you abandoned me in that alley. Much like the one below us, actually... Yeah, let's see how you like being left for dead on the cold pavement!" He pulled the trigger and a bullet entered my shoulder. I heard his vengeful laughter as he took long strides towards me. I clenched my teeth from the pain, but I wouldn't allow this man to delight in the knowledge of my suffering.

"Tell me, what will you gain by following zhis path of revenge?" _Although I know it's futile to try to rationalize with him, stalling never hurt when baking up a strategy._ I only had my butterfly knife, so naturally I was raised to improvise. I put my left hand over the wound, trying to lessen the amount of blood that flowed out of it.

"What do I have to gain?" He snickered incredulously, "Just the temporary joy of seeing the light fleeting from your eyes. And that's something I tend to relish for the rest of my life."

His eyes were cold, but beneath them lay an unmistakable sadness, a twinge of regret. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath in. _How stupid of you, Jacques. You and I both know the remorse will consume you. You were never in it for the blood, nor the money. You always wanted to keep your family safe._

"Do you view me as a threat?" His posture stiffened.

"Yes, but not for the reason you're thinking of." I searched his body language, three possibilities became overwhelmingly obvious.

_First, he thinks I might give away information about him before he died that might lead to what he assumed would be his demise. Complicated, yes. Not entirely implausible though._

_Second, he has a family to protect and perhaps for the better of his judgement, he's trying to tie up loose ends in the criminal part of his life._

_Third…_ I scrunched my eyebrows together when I saw him shuffling his feet.

"'ow ez your family, Jacques?" His gaze fell to the roof he was standing on. _Like an icicle._

"They're dead. Killed after my 'death'." I winced at how his voice reverted to its bitter, gravelly state. He lifted the gun once more and aimed it at my head. "Maybe it's better that they didn't get to know who I really am." I backed up to the edge of the roof, Jacques quickly replaced the space between us. He gripped my suit and looked me dead in the eyes. "I never did like that nickname. Every time you'd say it, I'd hold back the urge to tell you." The mouth of the gun rested hard on my temple. "Just for the record, the name's Rik."

"Good to know, _Jacques_." I spit out the words like they were rotten oranges on my tongue. The last thing I heard from him was a snarl before I was roughly shoved off of the rooftop.

* * *

><p>A vast, purple landscape was all that greeted me when I awoke. I attempted to sit up, but pain rippled through me and I gasped out in agony. My head turned to look at the wound. It was… patched up?<p>

I threw my hands down, determined to get up through this demented hell that soared around my body. I managed a decent position, sitting up and abandoning all notions of using my right arm anymore.

The 'landscape,' as I generously called it earlier, was empty. It was a simple, flat purple surface with a lighter purple for a sky. _I don't see any flames or demons, yet I still feel pain. Is this purgatory?_

_I suppose I deserve as much. I've lied, cheated, killed, all to profit my own personal gain._ I hugged my knees to my chest, feeling extraordinarily self-conscious. _In all of my life, I can't say I had any real friends. I had acquaintances, people with whom I would go to when I needed something. Sure, I had lovers, but romance quickly fleeted away when a past rival showed up to snip away at my sanity._ I bit back tears, memories of women sprawled on the floor, swimming in their own blood threatened to give me a heartattack.

"Not that it would matter, anyways." I took my butterfly knife out of my suit, swinging it around just to pass the time. Using my left hand proved to be less… experienced than I had hoped.

"_Fils de pute!_" I dropped the knife on the ground and sucked on my bleeding finger. _So I can still bleed, but can I die while in purgatory?_ I pondered this for a moment before grabbing my knife again.

"Just curious, but what's with the mask?" I spun around to see a cloaked figure, all of their features lost under a black garment and their voice muffled. I studied their outfit before asking a question of my own.

"It keeps my identity a secret. What about your cloak?" The figure took a step backwards and appeared to hold the cloth tighter around themselves.

"I'm also a secret…" They whispered. I craned my neck subconsciously to get a better view, but it was like looking at a painting. Without a sun or really any apparent lighting, no angle would offer me a better vantage point to observe the strange person. _Unless this is an angel of purgatory?_ I smiled grimly at the thought.

"What may I call you?" I held my breath, hoping that this angel wasn't easily angered.

"I go by many names, but you may call me Phantom." They said in a soft voice.

"You probably already know my name zhen, non?" The figure drifted closer to me, as if inspecting me. It kneeled down to my height, barely a foot from my face.

"You're hurt again?" I looked down at my finger, a small droplet of blood pooled at the cut. I smiled shyly.

"Oui, I cut myself with my knife, on accident of course." Phantom took my hand in theirs and wrapped some linen around it. Where the gauze came from, I had no idea. But to be honest, I felt a stronger connection with the ghost than I had with any of my past romances or friendships at that moment.

"You really should be more careful. More cautious of your surroundings." I raised my eyebrow at that.

"But I'm dead." The figure's hooded gaze landed on my face, causing a whirlwind of emotions to run me through and through. Pain, fear, excitement, sorrow, joy, as well as apprehension.

"What made you think you were dead?" I blinked as the words began processing in my mind.

"Zhe 'landscape' zhat currently surrounds us ez a bit… unnatural." I smirked when they tilted their head. _It's as if they didn't notice. Being a supernatural entity, I suppose they wouldn't._

"And what about me?"

"You are zhe Angel of Purgatory, non?" I waited for confirmation, but was met only by a small giggle. Their cloak shuddered gently at the figure's sudden movement.

"No, baguette. This isn't Purgatory, and I'm not an angel. But most importantly, you're not dead." I pursed my lips together, trying to rationalize all of this new information.

"Might I ask one more thing?" Phantom nodded after sitting down next to me, their hands were on their knees as they sat indian-style on the purple glass ground. "'ow did I get 'ere?" Awkwardly, the figure pulled an apple out of their cloak. They tossed it in the air a couple of times, seeming to be deep in thought.

"You hungry?" I frowned, shaking my head.

"If I am not dead, could you at least tell me 'ow to get back?" Phantom sighed.

"Sure, but tell no one of this event." I nodded. They'd probably think I was crazy, anyways. "Where would you like to re-enter into the world?" Puzzled, I decided to humor myself.

"Paris, France. I 'ave been meaning to go zhere for some time now." Not my hometown, but they don't need to know that. With my accent, they'd probably assume as much.

With hardly any hesitation, the figure formed a large glass door that floated midair by making a circular motion with their hand. Although glassy, it didn't reflect my face; it showed the area in front of the Eiffel Tower. I just stood there gawking at it. I pointed at it with a dumbfounded look on my face.

"Before you ask, yes that portal will take you to Paris. Just walk through it when you're ready." I shuffled hesitantly on my feet while Phantom walked further and further away from me. I took one last glance in their direction before stepping into the faux mirror.

La tour Eiffel towered over me as the glass retreated in on itself. I took a quick glance around me and sighed. _Altogether, I'd say today had been the strangest in my life._

I strolled past the tourists and the politicians, my mind was focused on things much more important than my dearest tower. _Can I say for certain that that was all real? Even now, as I'm walking in the middle of Paris, can I say that I'm not dreaming?_ The pain in my right shoulder was enough to convince me.

Time slowed down as I noticed a familiar figure pass by me. I opened my mouth to speak, I reached out to get her attention, but everything around me quickly faded, leaving me with her visage seared in my mind.

* * *

><p>I woke with a gasp, sweat was dripping from my nose and down my face. Trembling hands were brought up to my face. <em>Another memory mixed into a dream... But I knew I'd seen her before. Or someone very similar. They have the same curly red hair, after all.<em>


End file.
